Distraction
by Malkaviankitten7
Summary: Today is the worst day of Derek Hale's life. Nothing could possibly make this any easier. Well, except maybe a hyperactive little kid who hasn't taken nearly enough Adderall.


It was all over. Everything. His mother. His father. All his cousins. His baby brother. They were all gone, just like that. Uncle Peter, Laura and himself, that was all that was left of their family, their pack, his whole world.

The worst part though? Derek knew it was all his fault.

His throat clenched up tight and tears threatened to spill over again as the thought of Kate came back to mind. How she'd smiled at him so sweetly, touched him so gently, coaxed all his secrets out of him with whispers of 'I love you' and promises of forever.

Derek was sixteen years old. What on earth made him think that a twenty-two year old, gorgeous woman would have actually wanted anything to do with him? Sure, he was popular and he was captain of the swim team and the lacrosse team. He drove an expensive car and could easily have had his pick out of any of the girls in his school. But none of that meant anything in the real world. None of that mattered to the twenty-two year old woman who played him like a fiddle.

It'd felt like hours since the recently appointed Sheriff had taken Laura back into his office. Maybe it had been hours. Derek couldn't remember what time it'd been to guess. He thought about maybe going and knocking, but no, he couldn't face Laura right now. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to face Laura. Not that Derek had any reason to think Laura knew. Even if Laura didn't believe the official story - that it'd been an accidental fire - there was no reason for her to ever suspect Derek had any connection to the woman who orchestrated the fire.

But Derek knew. Deep down, he knew and the guilt would likely be the death of him one of these days.

He picked at a loose string at the hem of his shirt, just trying to keep his fingers busy when a '_psst_' caught his attention. Derek looked up, scanning the room until he spotted the source of the noise. The kid couldn't have been more than ten, all scrawny and awkward limbs - probably in the middle of a growth spurt - hair buzzed short, impossibly wide eyes the color of honey, a small slightly upturned nose and a grin that stretched across his face, pulling out dimples and highlighting a little mole on his left cheek.

He urgently waved Derek over and when Derek didn't move, the kid bounded across the room and grabbed his hand, tugging insistently. "C'mon!" he pleaded. "I need your help!"

Derek glanced at the Sheriff's door, hearing the conversation inside sounding no closer to an end than it had the last few times he'd listened in and then turned back to the kid. "Look, kid, I-"

"It's Stiles," the kid cut him off and tugged again. "And it's important! Please! It's a matter of _life or death_!"

Part of Derek wanted to tell this kid to leave him alone. After the day he'd had, he had no patience for these sort of games. He just wanted to wait here, suffering under the weight of his guilt, until his sister finally came out. They'd go see their uncle in the hospital and make plans on where to go from here. Hopefully far- very far away.

But there was something about this kid - Stiles - that stuck out to Derek. Maybe it was the way he smiled without it really reaching his eyes or maybe it was that twinge of sincere desperation that colored his voice when he insisted it was a matter of 'life or death'. Maybe Derek just needed a distraction from what was most definitely the worst day of his life.

Whatever it was, Derek sighed and nodded, letting Stiles drag him across the police station and into the breakroom. The deserted room smelled of day old coffee and pastries- no, not pastries, just doughnuts. Stiles dragged him to a table in the back where a mostly empty box of doughnuts sat open. Two powdered, filled with some kind of fruit compote - probably strawberry from the smell of it - a chocolate crueler and a coconut covered ring were all that remained of what had once been a dozen.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it," Stiles spoke up, his voice as haughty as a ten year old could manage, as he shoved the box Derek's way. "Is to finish half of the remaining doughnuts."

"You're kidding me, right?" Derek asked, his voice incredulous. "This is a matter of 'life or death'?" He even made little air quotes as he spoke.

"Yeah!" Stiles shot back, as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet. When Derek didn't move though, Stiles spoke again, this time with an increasing intensity the longer he went on. "Look, Mr. grumpy, my dad - the Sheriff - he's got a bad heart and really high cholesterol. Mom's not around to make sure he eats good anymore so it's my job. Now, I can't eat all four of these. I've got lacrosse tryouts at the end of the summer and have been practicing every single day after school with Scott - he's my best friend - so that I'll get on the team. It's important to play on the team if I'm ever gonna impress Lydia Martin. It's all part of my five year plan to get Lydia to go out with me so we can be high school sweethearts just like my mom and dad were and we can get married and have a bunch of kids. Those kids need a grandpa, so these doughnuts need to be gone before he comes back out of that office and I need your help to do it!"

By this point, Stiles was talking a mile-a-minute, hands flailing wildly with the explanation and though Derek had surprising followed what the kid was saying, he wasn't wholly convinced that Stiles didn't need medication. He almost said as much when something stuck out in his mind. Stiles had said his mother wasn't around anymore. He'd remembered the Sheriff telling him and Laura that he'd lost his wife recently, some attempt to emphasize with their loss.

"Hey, c'mon, it's not- I'm sorry," Stiles said, his voice having gone soft as he wiped at Derek's eyes with a tissue.

Derek hadn't even realized he was crying again.

When Derek looked back up at Stiles, the kid shot a small smile and said, "C'mon, you can even have first pick."

Derek knuckled his eyes and offered a sad smile, before replying, "First and second and you got a deal."

Stiles took a moment to think it over before nodding and shoving the box insistently towards Derek again.

* * *

An hour later, Derek had finished three of the doughnuts. A half eaten coconut ring sat in the box on the table above them while Stiles and Derek laid under the table talking. Well, Stiles was talking while Derek mostly just nodded along and let the kid distract him. He'd long since lost track of how many topics they'd covered, finding it was easier to follow along if he didn't try to figure out where the conversation was going.

Stiles mentioned something about needing his next dose of Adderall before getting sidetracked talking about Lydia again. Derek imagined that was a common occurrence for the kid who clearly wasn't taking enough of the ADHD medication. Normally - and by normally, he meant any day other than today - Derek would have found it annoying, but today, this kid going on a conversational roller coaster was exactly the sort of distraction he needed.

Of course, the distraction couldn't last.

"Stiles, what have I told you about-" the Sheriff's voice interrupted their conversation, only for the man to cut himself off when, Derek assumed, he spotted that Stiles wasn't alone. "Derek, I think we're just about finished here. Laura's waiting for you out in the reception area."

Derek climbed out from under the table and nodded at the Sheriff respectfully. "Thank you, sir." He waved to Stiles and headed out, knowing he'd probably never even see the kid again.

On his way out of the room, the Sheriff put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. As Derek turned the corner, he heard the man complain, "Aw, c'mon guys, who eats half of the last doughnut and leaves it there like that, taunting me. And coconut too? That's my favorite."


End file.
